I was just thinking last week that I should write a post on my obsession with the You’ve Got Mail apartment. You know the one: Kathleen Kelly’s shabby chic brownstone walk-up, home to the lone reed and upright piano, walls covered in books and...
Read moreResults may vary (my advice on having a happy marriage)
So this is my advice*, on having a happy marriage, after 13 years of more happiness than not (though to be fair, some years might fit in the not category, but not many... less than a handful really... but I digress):
Say, "I love you."
Say, "I love you, too."
Don't quit.
Say, "Thank you!"
Say, "You're welcome!"
Don't quit.
Ask, "Did you remember to grind the coffee before bed?"
Say, "Yep."
Say, "Oh, thank God. And you, too, of course. I love you. Good night."
Don't quit.
Say, "I don't know how."
Say, "I know. It's ok. We'll figure this out."
Don't quit.
Say, "I'm sorry."
Say, "I forgive you."
Don't quit.
Of course, these are only the things we say, but it's the not quitting part that helps us mean it. It's what makes us get up in the morning and before we even think to brush teeth, reach over for a quick kiss and a good morning and how did you sleep? It's what binds us during the day with the don't forget and the we're out of milk! It's what closes the book, turns off the lamp, and rolls over whispering good night and i love you.
It's the not quitting that makes it stick. It means we're in it together.
And that makes us happy.
*Not a scientific study; based solely on a random sampling of two midwesterners trying to make a go of it, keep their wits about them, and still love God and each other. Results may vary. Consult your partner.
I open the door, in five
It's always a risk.
Dropping him off at school, waving to teachers I only know and trust because the school seems to know and trust them. Letting her visit family, a whole week apart from me, without a mother to keep eye out. Just sending her out the front door with a ball and a wave.
I've heard of this happening, mothers who are overwhelmed by fear and anxiety for their children. They keep the door locked and the blinds closed, not willing to take the chance. Because who knows? Who knows what might happen, who might prey, how they might disapear or get hurt or...?
Read moreFiguring Out Equally Shared Parenting : Because we mess up
Figuring Out Equally Shared Parenting : Real men pre-soak cloth nappies
So now you know our big secret, that we kind of* subscribe to an Equally Shared Parenting method of life, work and family. Last time I talked about how we aren't so big on traditional gender roles (though I've recently taken on more cooking responsibilities, which has resulted in, shall we say, a minor existential crisis), but today I want to talk about how we parent the brilliant little people.
*I say "kind of" because we're still learning and growing and I'm not meaning this as a specific endorsement of ESP
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